Here Be Monsters
by Its Good to be a Myth
Summary: Who were those poor mutants in the Nibeheim reactor? Please read and review


Disclaimer: Nothing from FFVII belongs to me, it all belongs to Square Enix

I was replaying FFVII because I could and I reached this part of the game. Then a plot bunny bit me and I had to write this.

Hope you enjoy and please read and review

_I/we used to be normal..._

Everyone knew about the new mako reactor the ShinRa higher-ups were meant to be building in some little out-of-the way shithole called Nibelhell or something. Palmer was practically skipping these days what with the money that was supposed to come in from the increase in Mako supply so extra gil for his space programme. Even Reeve and His Majesty the General - in between stalking around like some odd silverhaired bat- weren't denying it.

So it was a bit of a surprise when I and the rest of us from SOLDIER division 65 received summons to accompany the creepy bastard Hojo and a bunch of other scientists and SOLDIER FIRST divisions 3 and 4 to the new reactor.

After the war in Wutai most of us SOLDIERS especially us the lowest THIRD class were mostly obsolete. We patrolled the upper plate, slept around and generally lived comfortably in our barracks only called out when some small upstart idiots decided to be annoying.

_Life used to be great…_

We knew we were a waste of gil, useless with no one to fight and nowhere near as good or valuable as the FIRST class SOLDIERS but still orders were orders so we went

_dumb lambs to the slaughter_

…to Mt Nibel.

When we got there all of us from the 65th were pretty tense. That weird greasy haired scientist Hojo was always lookin' our way and I knew I wasn't the first to be the butt of some joke from the guys from 3rd or 4th. But we were there, the Mt Nibel reactor.

Looking back, it was so obvious it was a trap, with 3rd and the whitecoats lead by Hojo ahead and the 4th silent and sneering behind us through the machinery wide-eyed until we reached it.

Covered in dark red paints a staircase which led up to an arched tightly sealed doorway with the words _Jenova _engraved over the top. Either side of this archway, empty egg shaped pods, clean white insides with little windows placed high in each of the doors.

_A pod for each of us, graves where we laid our claims to be human to rest_

Too strong, deaf to our yells and demands. Deaf to our pleas and our curses, we were overpowered. What could we have done? Two FIRST class SOLDIERS to each of us lowly THIRDs they dragged us one by one to each pod whilst the whitecoats watched. When we screamed some of the white coats looked away, pale and sickened but Hojo, he never even flinched, never looked away, the dim eerie fluorescent glow glinting off his glasses.

_The slam of the pod door, a hiss as the valves shut air-tight, raw throats from the screams, hands bloody_

Trapped in the pods, each of us separated smears of blood on pristine white walls we waited. Footsteps passed outside, strange noises started, our tears dripping down falling on our uniforms and the floor.

_Drowning in Mako_

It was slow, this death. Burning, icy pain that travelled up as our pods filled. Raw mako from the belly of the beast itself, flimsy uniforms disintegrating under the onslaught. Rapid-fire mutation, skin hardening agonizing pain as flesh solidified, writhing as bones elongated, cartilidge formed ridges, hair gone and our skin like rock, grey in the reflection off once-white walls. Muscles frozen, face a rictus of pain, gums raw, teeth bared.

_United in pain, in the wrong that was done to us, Minds reaching out seeking and meeting, madness finding slight comfort with company_

If time passed, we were unaware, just existing, our bodies weren't the same but we could talk to ourselves, the demons our madness supplied us willing to talk as we adapted to this false life of ours.

More footsteps, voices, _the General_,familiar, and others unknown, flashes of blond and black and silver and human faces.

_Overwhelming rage_

Voices muffled through the mako the words indistinguishable on the edge of hearing but there. _Judging?Angry?_

_How dare they judge us, how dare they mock us!_

The General was our icon, our leader he was supposed to have protected us from this, we were angry, but he was angry too. We could sense madness from him, a kindred spirit in this hell.

_Energy, throwing what-I-had-become from side to side, the pod rocked, steam hissed jutting out from the side, the door opening, mako diffusing into the atmosphere I was **free.**_

_**I/we screamed**_


End file.
